A Dance Penetrates March's Quiet
by coffee-stained lips
Summary: Fleur dances to break March's monotony, and somehow Cedric gets roped in. Oneshot. /Month Two/


**Two HP oneshots in one day? I'm on a Harry freakin' Potter _roll_! Quick note: I've recently become a **_**A Very Potter Musical**_** fan! Well, not very recently, but about two months. The songs are amazing, the play is hilarious, and I'm requesting something AVPM-related for Christmas. Anyway, go watch if you haven't and you're totally awesome if you have. ;-) Month: March; Ship: Cedric/Fleur**

March was known by all as a month created to fill a void. It had no special holidays nor did it mark summer's break. It was not too cold, but not too warm, and altogether not too exciting. It got by on birthdays some families cherished, and some death dates they mourned over, but there wasn't much left to March than a few weeks being wished away by students of all ages.

Fleur, despite her delicate exterior, was a woman of excitement and wanted her time spent well with such adventure. At Beauxbatons, time was well-spent always: the school cared much more about cultured activities than the others competing in the Triwizard Tournament, and it was open for all the students to dance, sing, and perform. Fleur would lend herself to her interpretive dance at the first second anything boring appeared. But here at Hogwarts, as March rolled around, there wasn't much to do at all. It was obvious the simpletons of Hogwarts couldn't amount to the classiness Beauxbatons had established over the years.

Not even being a champion—and a beautiful woman whom many boys of all schools stared at—could defeat the ennui induced by March; the Second Task had just been completed the month before (besmirching her good name with her failure in it) and the Third wasn't coming until June. So now, not only was she left with nothing thrilling to pass time, but she also was pronounced the worst of the four champions with her inability to rescue her sister from the lake's depths, instead leaving it up to Harry Potter—a mere child! How humiliating!

Cedric was a humble young man, and never complained about anything, much less something as negligible as thirty-one days with no sparkling events occurring. He could busy himself with simple matters like his schoolwork and be as entertained as when he was fighting that Swedish Short-Snout. Well, perhaps not _that_ entertained. But his relationships among his Hufflepuff brethren, and lady love Cho, helped fill any voids classes didn't. He liked Professor Sprout very much, but he would much rather talk with Cho Chang, something nobody could argue with.

As you can see, these two champions had differing opinions on the month of March. Neither would back down from any opinions either, though. The sole difference was Cedric would do it politely whilst Fleur had to restrain herself from shoving her view down your throat. And Cedric, being the courteous boy that he was, wasn't prepared for that kind of deliverance of opinion.

As March weather always is, the atmosphere was cool, breezy, and dull. Cedric had just dispelled from his group of close cohorts to take time for his studies—his grades were an important factor to him, and he was falling a tad behind in Charms. If he wanted a good career alongside his father at the Ministry in the Department of Regulation and Control for Magical Creatures, he needed a good grade on his N.E. for Professor Flitwick's class.

As he rested on the prickly grass of the grounds, wand and a copy of _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7_ in hand, Cedric was set to study and ace his tests. Unfortunately, his lessons were interrupted by a ruckus nearby caused by a gaggle of blue-gowned ladies. The girls (presumably his age) were giggling and speaking in their native tongue, which meant Cedric had no chance of understanding them. The distraction was worse in a foreign language, as it sounded like conjoined bunkum. He didn't wish to yell at them, as that would be rude to do, but he did find his patience dwindling as the words in his spell book swam together while his ears were trained on their voices.

"_Je me sens tellement désolé pour vous que vous avez perdu la Deuxième Tâche à un bébé!_" one said, and the rest nearly bent over in laughter. He noticed another blush scarlet, and could recognize that humiliated and angered face to be Fleur's, his opponent.

"_C'était une petite erreur, Marie, et je vous remercie infiniment de ne pas parler. Il n'est pas comme si vous êtes dans se Tournoi, êtes-vous?_" Fleur countered, and at this the seventeen-year-olds ceased their laughing and turned to the first young lady, smirks upon their rosy lips. The other girl then bit her lower lip before huffing, turning away, and leaving the premises with a few of her followers. Most stayed behind with Fleur, smirking proudly at her successful attempt to subdue her enemy.

"_Allons, Mesdames, il doit y avoir quelque chose de divertissant à faire ici._" Fleur said, already beginning to flounce away. The others stood back, pursing their lips is curiosity. Cedric strained even harder to hear, going against his Hufflepuff nature by eavesdropping. He figured it didn't count, considering he couldn't understand a word.

"_Comme quoi? C'est si ennuyeux __ici à Hogwarts à ne rien faire._" said another, flipping her auburn hair from beneath her sky-blue hat.

"_Pourquoi, je pense que j'ai vu quelques-uns un peu beau Durmstrang hommes là-bas!_" squealed the girl next to her, pointing hungrily to a group of rough-looking Durmstrang boys standing still as statues. Others nodded, also sizing up their individual men, but Fleur looked abashed.

"_Ooh, oui, nous allons aller vers eux!_" the auburn-haired one said, and off were they, leaving Fleur alone and even madder. There went her friends, her sole source of entertainment in the humdrum March day. She could've lowered herself to flirting with the Durmstrang men if only for something to break the monotony, but her pride was much too valuable and so she had to sit by herself.

She plopped onto the stone steps of the castle, pouting. She tried to remain formal as she moped, smoothing out her gown and crossing her legs; but it was clear she wasn't in the mood to look nice. Hogwarts was very, _very_ lackluster toward her tastes. She craved excitement, she craved heat, she craved chaos, bodies jerking, lips singing, hair tossing—

Fleur Delacour craved the exhilaration of dance.

Fleur licked her lips in an unladylike fashion, brain whirring as memories of enjoyable occasions weaved throughout. Dance recitals at Beauxbatons—balls held for honor students—weddings, birthdays, Christmas parties, filled with loud music and hips twirling back and forth, up and down in blurred ecstasy. Boys holding her at the hips, eyes twinkling in awe of her splendor were abundant in her reveries, but she always left them to twirl about on her own, her voluptuous figure curving flexibly in movements both Muggle and magic folk could barely do. Dance had always been treasured in her family—her _culture . _Madame Delacour enrolled her daughter in only the best dance courses in France, and Fleur was prompted to join every possible Beauxbatons event that included any sort of rhythmic motion. When in doubt, in Fleur's case, one must lend their body to the music—silent or loud—a slave to their own heart's beats.

Unconsciously, the young girl found herself tapping one ballet flat. And then one more. Her pink lips parted to softly sing a tune, each note gradually growing in volume. She stood, her legs tracing patterns on the dark-green grass, dewdrops tickling her skin as she shifted position. Her arms brushed each other as she raised them above her head, and down to her hips, and then back up. One leg skimmed her pelvis, rising to her ear, before it was swiftly put back to the ground. Fleur then twisted herself round, swirling in circles, her song deafening in her ears. Soon enough she could hardly identify her movements, and instead allowed her song to guide herself along the grounds.

To say Cedric wasn't interested in this dance would be a bald-faced lie. He was enticed by the magnificence of her well-coordinated steps and the way her skin glowed as she agilely coiled her thin limbs. A rule his father had was that Cedric would not stare, especially at women, as that was rude, but Cedric dismissed this as he gazed, openmouthed, at the show Fleur was involuntarily giving.

With one final spin, Fleur's song was over as was her dance. She smiled, having broken the tedium if only for a moment, and tried to remember another tune when Cedric's admiring eyes were noticed by her. A blush crept to her cheeks, flawing the perfection with dots of unnatural red. Her hair was now snarled, strands poking out from odd ends, and her lips were raw and dry from the wind grazing them as she sang. Her outfit was also a little messed up, putting cracks in the perfection she was required to have; the shawl of blue had been cast off, her hat hanging off her head at a lopsided angle, and her dress basically rumpled and a thread or two even hung at her knee. Madame Maxine would've fainted promptly at the sight.

Fleur tucked a blonde-colored hair behind her ear. "Well, 'ello, Cedric," she greeted the other champion, "I do hope I was entertaining."

"You were." mumbled Cedric; and then he caught on to his words, and his cheeks flushed as hers had. His handsome face looked as abnormal as hers with pink speckles. "Um, I mean to say you dance divinely. I've...truthfully never come across a better dancer—not even at the Yule Ball." Fleur scoffed, a grin bordering on arrogant taking over.

"Ah, ze Yule Ball is not a good representation of dance," she said, "It is for ze amateurs; I would 'ave danced much more had I not been with Roger—two left feet zat boy 'as! Ah, but you were somewhat better. Not perfect, but 'ow could you be, without ze proper teaching?" Cedric knew this gilded compliment harbored a distasteful opinion on Hogwarts, but so enraptured by her abilities and beauty was he that it bounced off his brain.

"Yes, yes, quite," he replied, nervously shifting from one foot to the other; as mature as Cedric was, with his superior intelligence and civility among his mates, being in the presence of one of the "lovely ladies" of Beauxbatons was nerve-racking, especially after seeing a performance that would leave kings speechless and besotted. "Cho is pretty talented too; she took lessons for two years before Hogwarts, but never finished."

"Eet is noticeable." said Fleur. Cedric replied with stunned, mildly upset silence. "What dance did she do?"

Cedric gulped. He hadn't learned much of Cho's dance education, as she learned only enough for a ball or two. And even if he'd bothered to ask or she'd bothered to tell, there wouldn't be much conversing of the subject—she had actually had one year of formal dance schooling before "halting in her education as the stress was too great".

"Just average ballroom dancing."

"Mmm," Fleur mused, "So she cannot do zis—?" Suddenly, Fleur exploded once more into a breathtaking dance; it lasted for five steps, but each was more magical than the last. Her fingers traced the clouds in the sky as her feet swept quickly in front of one another, and her hair just continued to get more knotted, except she didn't care any longer. Once her fleet performance was done, she cocked a devious eyebrow.

"No." Cedric said.

"Can _you_ do anything?" asked Fleur, stepping nearer to him. She was close enough for Cedric to brush against her, but the thrill kept him rigid. He'd move not until she coaxed him. He purely curtailed a boyish smile at her schoolgirl antics of desire and sweet-talk. "Can you do zis—?"

And then, off were they; Fleur pulled him close against her, eyes betraying a prim outer surface. Her hands met his, and their fingers pressed together, the pulsating blood flow beating as one. She separated them, twirled around, and allowed his arms to travel unto her hips. For one moment they were pressed against one another, bodies radiating heat, but then she swirled back round, and moved their dance to a faster rhythm. They entangled and untangled their arms, their legs darted between each other's, and her head always orbited back to his chest. Their movements were upbeat, and their smiles were genuine; her voice was heard above the whooshing wind and the chirping birds. If any other students from any three schools were watching, they would not blink because Cedric and Fleur as a dancing pair were captivating—they moved as one body, and joined as one soul.

As all good, wondrous things do, their dance ended. As abruptly as it started. Fleur suddenly peeled herself off his robes, expression one of shock but one of manifest elation as well. Cedric didn't know whether surprise or delight controlled his features. Both licked their lips, but Fleur's burned as they were chapped from all that rushing wind and singing. Cedric watched her tongue glide across the pink petals of her mouth, giving life again to the wilting beauty.

"Yes, you can dance well, Cedric." Fleur smiled daintily. "Maybe you can one day visit France for a ball at Beauxbatons, non?"

"If ever there is one after this year." Cedric answered, nodding, a little too enthusiastically.

"Certainly—there always are. Of course, I'll be graduating this year, but I do hope we each can return for a day. Is zat alright?"

"It's a date." said Cedric, and all of a sudden Fleur's lips, upturned in a grin, inflated back to their preliminary fullness.

"It 'as been fun. Thank you." She kissed his cheeks in a classic example of greeting; despite knowing its cultural meaning, Cedric couldn't stop smiling at the feeling.

And then Fleur left, a song still in her mouth as she sashayed back with her friends. Cedric went back to his books, but the enlivening dance had left him dizzy; without any possible chance to adequately study, he gathered his supplies to return to the Hufflepuff common room. Already his mind was wandering to what fine robes he could purchase at Madam Malkin's over the summer for a Beauxbatons ball. And this time, maybe he'd hear some dance school stories.

**_Translations In Order of Appearance:_**

**_"I feel so sorry for you that you lost the Second Task to a baby!"_**

**_"It was a small mistake, Marie, and I'd thank you very much to stop speaking. It's not like you are in the Tournament, are you?" _**

**_"Come on, ladies, there must be something entertaining to do here." _**

**_"Like what? It's so boring here at Hogwarts, doing nothing." _**

**_"Why, I think I saw some handsome Durnstrang men over there!" _**

**_"Ooh, yes, let's go to them!"_**


End file.
